


Agitation

by LiamLordofTrash



Series: Starvation Series [2]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Angst, Attempted Murder, Betrayal, F/M, M/M, Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-04-29 22:49:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14482902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiamLordofTrash/pseuds/LiamLordofTrash
Summary: The few survivors of Starvation are trying to move on with their lives, when they find themselves are under attack by another group of clones that were made for one reason- kill the remaining RED team members. Ships are more present, but still behind the plot.





	1. Chapter 1

          Sniper got up at six in the morning, drank three cups of coffee, emptied his jars, and got in his van. He drove into the middle of nowhere, crawled up into a nook in a building and waited. He stuck his jars in various holes in the trees nearby. He sat there for hours, trying to use the jars and realizing that he had sat up in the worst place possible. It was a very small, cramped space. Hard to work in. He saw his mark, right where he was supposed to be. He waited. He didn’t have a good shot yet. He felt eyes boring into the back of his head. He felt the hairs on his arms raise up. He was being watched.

  He couldn’t shake the idea that he was being watched. He hadn’t been able to shake that feeling for years. He figured it was years. He had no idea. Sniper didn't want to know how long it had been. He wanted to forget the whole thing, if he could. He heard something behind him and quickly turned pointing his gun. He expected nothing, it had been nothing for years, but for once he was right. There sat a small white dove, looking at him. He paused for a moment. He wondered for a moment if it was one of Blue Medic’s doves. He knew it wasn't one of Red’s. The bird hopped towards him, and crawled to his shoulder. It was tame. He sighed and picked it up. He tried to remember what Medic called his doves. Archibald? Archimes? Archimedes, that was it. He picked up the bird. 

          “Fine then. Archimedes it is.” He picked up the bird. The bird took a part of his lunch and flew away. “Little bastard.” He turned back around, trying to eat he rest of his lunch. He was going to be there a while. He stretched up and then felt a thin blade pressed between his shoulders.

“If you move, I will gut you,” the French voice said.

“You son of a bitch,” Sniper said. “Are you happy with yourself? Are you happy with killing our friends? Medic’s dead,” Sniper informed him. “That’s your fault.”

“How is that supposed to be my fault?” asked Spy.

“You pushed him off the ladder to kill him. You wanted control. You wanted to take over- killing off your competition.” 

“How fucking dare you accuse me of killing them,” Spy snapped, hands shaking harshly, knife cutting Sniper’s shirt. He was absolutely furious. “It was random and I had nothing to do with whatever happened to Medic! I should have just let you fucking die.” 

“Whatda ya mean-”

“I am not a stupid or deaf man. I heard you spreading rumors about me for a long time. If I wanted control, you would have been dead long before anyone else. Engineer and I did not always get along, but he was a useful, practical, and intelligent man. I would not have killed our Engineer just because he was more likely to be listened to. I am a Spy, if I wanted to I could lock him in his room and use a mask to become him. I use trickery on my team, not murder.” Sniper paused. He didn’t know how he had been so wrong. 

“I…”

“I should go use my time on someone who will actually be of use to me,” he said. 

“Spook.. I’m…”

“You’re what?” Spy hissed.

“I’m sorry,” Sniper said. Spy didn’t say anything for a while. He seemed genuinely surprised. “I don’t know why I got so paranoid, or what made me think that you were this way I just… I’m sorry.”  

“I… I accept your apology,” Spy said. “We must hurry and get out of here.”

“Spook I still gotta job to do-” 

“We must go now, bushman,” Spy said. “Before the Yellows get here.”

“What the hell is a Yellow?”

“They were a team made after the Greens- to replace and kill us.”

“Who were the Greens?”

“Well they were supposed to be a Yellow team but for some reason they all came out as you and nine Snipers is not an effective team.” 

“You’re kiddin’ aren’t you?”

“This is no laughing matter- I had to hide amongst them to gather information. I had to be you for months, making jokes with the other yous and pissing in a jar. That was by far the worst month of my life.”

“Thanks, mate.” 

  
  


Heavy went through the small town in Russia. He went through the streets and sold some of the old bear meat. Zhanna was not doing well. She had wanted, desperately badly, to leave the bear meat and cold of Russia behind for America and for Soldier. Now he was gone. He had been gone. Years maybe. He walked into a small store and sold the pelts, getting some bread. Zhanna loved bread. It would make her feel better. He walked home gradually, his feet dragging in the snow. He was starting to get tired of it all too. He walked home. His mother was cooking something, he could see the smoke coming from the chimney. 

“Hello! Am home!” Heavy called. 

“Oh my God, Misha, why did you never introduce us to your friend?” asked his mother.

“My.. friend?” he asked. He walked further in. There, in his living room, with his family was Medic. His Medic. He had a thick cane, which supported him from where the leg was missing. Heavy fell back and hit the floor. 

He woke up in about ten minutes, laying there. His sisters were getting him water, his mother was fanning him, and his head was rested in Medic’s lap. “Ludwig,” he said softly, looking up at Medic.

“It’s me, Misha,” he said softly. “It’s me.” Heavy reached up and locked his arms around Medic’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. When they pulled apart to breath he noticed that his mother looked like she was going to have a stroke. 

“Oh.. Uh… Mother.. I prefer.. Men,” Heavy said. “To women.” Heavy’s mother paused a moment longer.

“Is good to have Doktor in family,” said his mother, shrugging.  

For the rest of the day Heavy refused to let Medic out of his sight or out of his arms. He tried to keep out of the way of Zhanna so as not to remind her of her loss. Every time Medic tried to stand up he would stand with him, scoop him up, and carry him around the house. He showered Medic with kisses and held him close. 

“I need to-”

“Nyet,” Heavy said, “We do it together.” He scooped Medic off his foot and started to carry him.

“Mikhail! I can do that alone. I can stand-”

“But you don’t have to,” said Heavy. Medic sighed and leaned back, letting himself be held there. “I  never want to let you go.”

“You never have to,” Medic said, kissing his chin. 

 

“So we don’t know where he’s gone,” said Sniper.

“Oui.”

“And we don’t know what his name is but he changed it.”

“Oui.” 

“And we have no resources and are being hunted by clones of ourselves, our dead friends, and our two living friends.”

“Oui.”

“So.. what’s going well for us?”

“Unlike most of our friends, we are alive.”

“Wow thanks.”

“And we have two knives, your gun, and a plastic straw.”

“I think that first thing you said might not be a positive,” Sniper said. “Well.. Do you have a plan?”

“Not really.”

“Ah. Great.” 

“Look, a man like Demo is not going to be able to hide himself for long,” said Spy. 

“How’re we supposed to lure him out? Liquor?”

“That’s not a bad idea but I meant a paper trail. I shall find this trail. You shall find Heavy.”

“Where is he at?” asked Sniper.

“Russia.”

“That is a big place.”

“Indeed.” 

“Any idea of…?” Spy handed him a map.

“The big circle is him.”

“Thanks.” 

 

Demo sat in the bar, working. He was making money whilst drinking. He was a genius. He sat there, going from customer to customer.

“Hello, Tavish,” said a man. 

“Oh shite. Hello you little bastard,” he said quietly. “You’re riskin’ both our lives comin’ here now.. Suppose you don’t care. You like killin’ our team.” 

                “First of all you stupid bastard,” Spy began, “I did not kill any of them. It was randomized and I would have killed Sniper first. Just think for five minutes.”  Demo paused. 

               “You talk to Snipes?” asked Demo.

                “Yes. I have informed him I am not responsible for the deaths of our comrades. And… he apologized to me actually.” 

                 “Now I know you're lyin’.” 

                 “I would have thought so too,” Spy said. “It is…  surprising. But I suppose tragedy brings us together…” 

                  “That was a lot more than tragedy.” 

                 “Agreed.. but we must go and find Heavy. We are all in grave danger. The Yellow team, another group of clones is being sent after us to kill us. A team of us made to kill us. We must regroup with Sniper he has been sent to catch Heavy and we will then.. do something…” 

               “ You don't have a plan after that?” 

               “You don't have a plan at all, so.” 

  
  


               Zhanna was suspicious. She didn't trust it, not for a second. She had quickly noticed that, though Misha told them very little, that the leg nub was at the wrong place. Misha said that he had cut the leg off below the knee. This new man had his leg off at nearly the hip. She noticed he acted differently too. She had only briefly met the Medic, but she knew something was off with him. Misha had to know. He would if he wasn't denying the death, if he could just accept it. Zhanna supposed she would have done the same had Soldier come back, but she thought that Misha was a little more logical than that. But seeing how happy he was, she understood. The way that he held him and kissed him and cuddled him. She understood. 

Zhanna decided to go into town, telling Misha it would be better if he stayed by Medic’s side. He was appreciative. She went to the town to sell the bear meat. She sighed. She didn’t know how she could ever convince him.

 

Demo and Spy caught up with Sniper, who was apparently trying to walk all the way to Russia.

“What the fuck are you doin’ lad?” asked Demo.

“Walkin’ ya wanker, what’s it to- Oh shit, hello Tavish.” 

“Get in the car you imbecile,” Spy said.

“You’re makin’ a bloody paper trail with the damn car,” said Sniper. 

“We make a trail for them by being alive. The car will help us out run them,” Spy said. Sniper sighed and walked to the car. 

“There’s not a back seat,” noted Sniper.

“Oui.”

“Yeah.”

“Where am I supposed to sit, the bloody trunk?”

“You’re ridin’ bitch,” said Demo, pointing to the center console. 

“Why do I gotta ride bitch? I’m taller than you both.”

“You are used to hunching into small spaces for long times- that is part of your job,” said Spy. 

“I don’t wanna-”

“How’s aboutcha stop bein’ a bitch and get in,” Demo said. Sniper sighed. He started to crawl in through the window.

“What are you doing, you rabid bushman!?” snapped Spy, trying to shove him back.

“I’m getting in the car,” said Sniper. Sniper crawled over Spy, much to the amusement of Demo, and sat on the console. 

“I hate both of you,” Spy said. 

 

Zhanna was up before Misha, which was incredibly rare. She could take a guess as to why he was so tired. She sat at the table with her mother. 

“Mother… You never knew him before,” she said. “But Misha’s uh… Misha’s boyfriend is different. He is not himself. His leg is cut wrong. He is… wrong.” 

“Snake Lubac,” her mother whispered softly.

“What?”

“Snake Lubac… There was a meteor shower a few days before he showed up.” Zhanna remembered the legend of Snake Lubac. It was a species of great fire snakes, that fell from the sky with meteor showers. It  would appear to someone as a lost loved one, and tricked them to believe that they had never died. The snakes would gain the complete trust of the person and then trick them into suicide. Some believed it was inevitable once the snake had sunk its fangs into its victim, but she wouldn’t accept that. No one would be allowed to hurt her family. No man or monster. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Well this sucks. Why’da not tell me it was so bloody cold?” 

“This is Russia,” Spy told the complaining Demoman. “What did you expect.” 

“See he should’ve had to ride bitch.”

“Why?”

“Because he is one,” said Sniper. 

“Impeccable logic,” mocked Spy.

“Thanks,” Sniper said.

“I was mocking you,” Spy hissed.

“I know,” Sniper said. “It’s just more funny to pretend I don’t so that you get pissed off.” 

“We should make Spy ride bitch,” said Demo. “Cause he’s always a bitch.” 

“Leave ‘im alone, Demo,” said Sniper.

“Stop bein’ such a little Spy,” said Demo. He then drunkenly laughed to himself. “See what I did there?”

“Yes, you supplemented my name for bitch, very clever,” Spy said. “I am surprised such a feat did not kill your last brain cell.” 

“Oi! Look, we’re here!” said Sniper- pointing to the small village. 

“I am impressed this car lasted us all the way here,” Spy said. It then broke down.

“You had to go an’ say somethin’,” said Demo, burping. They got out of the car.

“Holy dooley!” Sniper exclaimed, stepping out. “We’ll freeze before we reach town.” 

“We just have to hurry.” They hurried through the snow like a group of penguins. They waddled all the way to the town, fridgedly hurrying into a bar. They gathered by the forest.

“Wait a minute… You… You are members of my brother’s team,” they heard, surprisingly in English. They turned. Zhanna stood at the bar.

“Ey! Zhanna!” Demo said. “I ‘member  you! I was the best man at your wedding!” 

“You were going to be,” said Zhanna quietly. Sniper and Spy tensed. Demo was too drunk to remember. “You are looking for brother?” 

“Yeah,” Sniper said. 

“There is.. Something wrong.”

“What is it?” Spy asked.

“Should not be wrong but.. Misha’s boyfriend has come home.”

“Misha’s boyfriend..? Wait-  _ Medic? _ ”

“Da.”

“That’s amazing.”

“He’s different,” said Zhanna. “Wrong.”

“Medic’s wrong?” Something clicked in Spy’s brain then and his eyes grew wide.

“No.  _ Wrong Medic. _ ” 

“Whatdya mean?” asked Demo. 

“It is the Yellow Medic,” Spy said. “Who has taken the place of our Medic for… some reason.”

“They’ve sent him here to look for us, in case we try to regroup,” said Sniper. “That’s why he’s here.”

“We gotta get Heavy,” Demo said.

“We can’t,” Spy argued. “The Yellow Medic will report that you two are here and that I am alive. It will be the deaths of all of us.” 

“We can’t just leave him,” said Demo.

‘The only shot we’ve got is sending in Zhanna to try to convince Heavy. All she’s gotta do is explain the Yellow’s are-”

“No, Sniper,” said Spy. “If she mentions the Yellows we will be caught. They will realize what we are doing.”

“Then he’ll just halfta realize that Medic ain’t right,” Demo said.

“I’ve tried to tell him. He will not believe it.” 

“Have you got anything you can convince him it is?” asked Spy.

“Snake Lubac,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Is ancient legend, similar to this. Maybe can convince brother is snake man,” said Zhanna. 

“Whatever works,” said Sniper. “We’ll stay here, you try to convince him to go.”

“Oh, and Zhanna,” said Spy. “Someone must kill that Yellow Medic. We cannot have him telling the others.” 

 

Zhanna headed home. She had no idea how she could convince Misha that the Medic was untrustworthy, much less should be killed. But she was his family and he cared for them. Hopefully he would believe her. She got home and walked inside, looking for Misha. Damnit, of course he was still holding onto the little man. They sat in a chair, Medic in his lap as Misha clung to him as if for dear life. She sighed. What could she even do with him? How to get the tiny man out of his lap. She had an idea. She walked to Yana and carefully and cautiously pushed her sister, causing her to spill her soup onto their guest. No one realized that Zhanna had done it. Perfect. Mother said that the little man should take a bath. Misha asked Medic if he wanted him to come with him. 

“Keep hands off little man for five minutes,” said Zhanna, “You have been attached to him since he got here.” Misha was going to argue but Medic took advantage of the time to writhe out of Misha’s arms and out of the room.

“It is alright, Misha,” said Medic. “I can take care of myself.”  _ Finally.  _ Zhanna slunk over to Misha.

“Brother, look you have to listen to me,” she said.

“What is-”

“Your lover is a Snake Lubac,” said Zhanna. 

“What? Doktor is not snake!” he said, definitely too loudly. 

“But he is snake! His leg is cut the wrong height, it is above the knee you sawed it below. Also would he let you hold him so long normally? Nyet. Little man would wiggle or cut something open- man is not right!”

“You are just jealous bec…” Misha lost the words as he tried to say them.

“Because what? Say it,” she hissed.

“Because Doktor is alive and Soldier is not!” 

“Fine then! Go and lie with snake,” Zhanna said. “You only hurt yourself and your real Doktor from beyond the grave.” She stormed out. She continued to walk, headed to town. She would have to give the others the bad news.

 

“Would not believe,” said Zhanna. “Would not even believe man is snake, thinks I am jealous because my love is gone while his ‘lives’.” 

“Then there is nothing we can do,” said Spy.

“We need him to help,” said Demo. “We can’t do this alone.”

“Wait a minute,” said Sniper. “Do we really need Heavy?”

“What?”

“Zhanna, can you come with us?” asked Sniper. Zhanna paused. 

“Da. Can go,” she decided. 

 

They headed back into Europe, unsure of where to go. They gathered in a bar, trying to find the best way to conceal themselves. 

“We need a plan.”

“In my time hiding amongst the horrid team of bushmen,” Spy began. 

“Can you stop calling me horrid?” asked Sniper. “Hurts my feelings a little.”

“Anyways, I discovered that Mann Co itself has turned off the respawn, but it is possible to turn it back on.”

“Then we gotta get into our old team’s base and turn it back on. Get out teammates back, ignore our mental scarring, and then we kill the Yellows-”

“They will be guarding our base,” said Spy. “To catch and kill us.” 

“Well how good even are they at killin’?” asked Demo. 

“They were allowed to practice on the Green Team.”

“Rest in peace my brothers,” said Sniper. 

“I am glad they are gone,” said Spy.

“Next chance I get to force you to be me I’m going to do it,” said Sniper. 

“Kinky,” Demo said. 

“Shut up,” said both Sniper and Spy. 

“We need to find some way to get to old team.”

“What if… I mean maybe they could kill our little team alone.. But what about us and the Blu Team?” asked Demo.

“What?”

“Now hold on- what if we go and we turn their respawn on and they respawn and we get them to help us kill the Yellows and then we turn on our respawn and boom! We’re alive and the Blus are alive and the Yellows are dead and it’s sweet.” 

“That was… a surprisingly coherent plan,” said Spy. 

“I’m alright with that,” said Sniper.

“Sounds good to me,” said Zhanna. 

 

Heavy knew he had to go and find Zhanna. She was somewhere, but he had no clue were to go.

“I must find my sister.”

“I can come with you-” volunteered Medic. Heavy paused. He didn’t want to put Medic at risk, not again. He had lost him once.. Well no, he guessed Medic couldn’t have died. He got a strange feeling about that, especially when thinking about what Zhanna had said about the Snake Lubac before she left. He sighed and shook his head. That was ridiculous. The man he loved was not a giant snake from space there to kill him. Even though his leg was different.. That was alright. It was probably because he had infection in the leg and it had to be cut further. It would be strange if it was longer. It was fine that it was shorter. But he was letting Misha cuddle him much longer and hold him but closer, but that was because he had missed Misha. Misha wasn’t normally so cuddly either, but he had thought they had been separated forever. He sighed. It wasn’t a problem. There wasn’t a problem. 

“Da,” Heavy agreed. He and Medic would go and get Zhanna. It would prove to her that he wasn’t a snake. Besides, he could handle bears and such. He just hoped they wouldn’t get stuck anywhere. He decided to wrap Medic in as many jackets as possible to keep him warm and decided to take lots of food with them. No starving this time.  They headed out, as Heavy said goodbye to his mother. They walked out.

“We will find her,” said Medic.

“Da.” 

 

They figured out the right way to go, and gradually found out were they had been. Blu’s base was far from theirs, but not far enough to be easy to get to without the Yellows realizing they were headed that way. They had to get there as quickly as possible, and they had to be as discreet as possible. With Demo, that was a challenge. Sniper, Spy, and even Zhanna could potentially be sneaky enough to get through. But Demo? He was… special. They would have to figure out some magically way to keep him sober and keep him from blowing up literally everything. It was like trying to maneuver a bull through a china shop at the risk of being caught meaning death. They got into the car that Spy had stolen, miraculously this time with four seats. Demo and Zhanna got the back and Sniper got the passenger’s seat next to Spy. 

“Alright, so I’ve noticed somethin’ weird,” said Sniper. 

“Enlighten us,” Spy said, hoping for a break from Demo’s drunken singing.

“So we’re clones,” said Sniper.

“Oui.”

“But we have families? Do you think like, Blu Sniper has a Blu version of my mum and dad? Does Blu Scout have a Blu mum? Did you fuck the Blu or the Red Scout mom? Who did Blu Spy sleep with? How many Zhanna’s are there? Is Blu Soldier with Blu Zhanna? Where is either Heavy’s dad? Do you think they ran off together? Is Blu Heavy banging Blu Medic?” 

“I should not have let you drink coffee,” said Spy.

“I mean probably not but you think that-”

“It is a stupid idea.. But you know… I mean.. Some of those were valid questions… I always wondered if perhaps we were the originals, or the Blu team… It would make sense that because we have families… You know I wish we could do a little test on the Scouts.”

“Why?”

“As clones, they wouldn’t have the maternal line from Scout’s mother. The one that is real will have both my line and hers.”

“Too bad both Scouts are dead,” belched Demo.

“Thanks for reminding us,” Spy hissed.

“Wot’s wrong?” Demo asked. “ ‘s not like-”

“He was my son you blithering idiot! Of course I am upset that my fucking son is dead and that Pauling shot him! If she was still alive I would tear her limb from limb for making him love her and trust her and then murdering him! I am upset and I am hurt and you all blaming me for the deaths of the others does not help!” snapped the man. They paused.

“Spy, I’m sorry we blamed you but we know better now,” Sniper said. “And I’m sorry for your loss.” There was a pause. 

“I don’t know what came over me,” Spy said, straightening his back. 

“Grief,” said Sniper. “It’s alright. It’s alright to be hurt.. It’s alright,” he put an arm around Spy’s shoulder. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be trying to maintain a regular chapter schedule and post every day or two, thank you all for sticking with it!


	3. Chapter 3

They kept driving deep into the night, until Sniper and Spy were the only ones still awake. They sat there in silence for a while.

    “God it is hot in this car,” said Spy.

    “Eh, I’m used to it. I’m from Australia.” Spy sighed.

    “I am not.” He paused for a moment. He moved one hand from the steering wheel to undo his tie and try to pull it off, undoing a button from his suit too. “Turn on the air conditioner.” Sniper did that. It didn’t seem to help him much.

    “Hey Spook, I gotta question for ya.”

    “What?”

    “What’s your name?”

    “Spy.”

    “No, I mean like your real name.”

    “Why does it matter to you?”

    “I’m just curious.. Mine’s Mundy if that means anything to you.” Spy sighed. He pulled off his mask and Sniper just sat there stunned.

    “Maybe someday I’ll tell you my name,” Spy said. “But tonight is not the night.”

    “That’s.. That’s alright… This is.. Good enough,” he said. The name thing had been brought up in an attempt to gain his trust, but actually seeing his face then.. That was better. “You got a nice face.”

    “Thank you?”

    “Wha- I just mean that like… I uh… You should…” Sniper paused.

    “What?” Spy said, smugly grinning.

    “I just think you should wear this less often,” Sniper said, holding the mask. “And this more .” He pinched the corner of Spy’s cheek, right where the smile began. Spy kind of blushed. Sniper smiled too, instinctively after Spy. He had a contagious smile when he didn’t wear the dumb mask. Sniper wanted to take the mask and burn it, but Spy would be too quick to let him burn it. He could take it right then and eat it, but he figured Spy would find that odd. He wanted Spy to still talk to him afterwards. He paused.

    “You are ridiculous,” Spy said, laughing a little.

    “Hey Spook, I gotta know somethin’.”

    “What is it?”

    “On the night you fake-died, did anyone actually attack you?”

    “Well thanks to your little conspiracy-” Spy began. Sniper averted his gaze, “It was something of a rough night.”

 

    Spy had  been prepared for Sniper to attack him. It was simple, the man was antsy, angry, and generally disliked him. (“Thanks for that description Spook”). Spy was waiting, watching his back, taking cover. It was fairly easy to avoid being shot. He decided that to make the assassination attempt even harder he would find someone to stay next to. He headed to the bar, the only place where he knew for a fact he could find someone. He sat next to Demoman at the bar.

    “How have you been lately?” asked Spy.

    “Bloody horrible.”

    “Agreed,” he said. Spy settled down at the bar. Demo was drinking, and Spy didn’t dare ask for something to drink. The alcohol supply was vastly too low already, so he lit himself a cigarette. They sat there, drinking and smoking for a while.

    “Why’d you fuckin’ do it?” hissed Demo.

    “What?” Spy asked.

    “Why did you kill him you son of a bitch!?” snarled Demo, standing up suddenly.

    “Kill who?” asked Spy.

    “Jane! Why the fuck did you kill him!? Why did you kill him?” snapped Demo.

    “J- you mean Soldier? I did not kill him he killed himself-”

    “You killed him!” Demo yelled, grabbing him by the throat. He slammed Spy against the table and kept trying to strangle him until he realized he was failing to choke him. Demo let him go, then broke a bottle and broke it and stabbed Spy in the stomach. He writhed out of Demo’s grasp and ran as fast as he could. He had to get to his room and get his dead ringer. He could use the cloaker, get the hell out, and let them play with the fake corpse. He cringed to know they would probably eat it. He ran towards his room, and then felt a baseball bat hit his skull.

    “Fuck!” he yelled. He looked up. Scout, held the bat, a look of horror on his face. He hadn’t ever _really_ killed someone. Sure, he killed the Blus plenty of times, but he had to know Spy wouldn’t respawn.

    “Oh shit.. I can’t… Oh God I can’t,” Scout began.

    “Scout- wait,” begged Spy. “If you kill me now, I won’t be back. You’ll kill me and it will be over. Forever. I know  you hate me and you have a right to-” Spy said. “But I’m still your father.” Scout paused, looking like he didn’t want to believe it for a moment, almost crying.

    “I can’t do it,” Scout said, dropping the bat.

    “Scout, stall Demo so I can get my cloaker, hide, and escape,” Spy said, not explaining that it was the dead ringer. He didn’t want to use it- he wanted to escape, but he couldn’t tell Scout. If he knew that if Scout knew and they found the body he wouldn’t be able to lie well enough for them to not figure out it was a dead ringer. He would try to escape without having to use the dead ringer, so as not to scar his son. He raced to his room, grabbed the cloaker, and ran for the door. He couldn’t get the door open he realized, suddenly. He felt a bottle collide right with his head. He used the dead ringer and ran, pausing only to tell Scout to get the hell out of the way. He raced to the stairs and crawled up as high as he could, breaking a hole in the ceiling and getting out of the building. He stopped for a second. The others would find the hole, sure but then they could escape. It would be alright. He lunged off the roof and into the snow.

 

    “Nearly froze to death,” he informed Sniper.   

    “I wish we had found that hole,” said Sniper.

    “I wish you had too,” Spy said. They hit a bump and Demo started to groggily sit back up. Spy put his mask back on before Demo sat up. For a second, Sniper was confused, then he was proud that Spy was actually starting to trust him. Of course, Spy would deny that to his grave, but it was alright. Sniper knew.

 

    He couldn’t deny it, no matter how hard he had tried. Zhanna had something of a point. Of course, Medic was not a giant snake from space, but he was still… _off._  Heavy had noticed it of course, but he figured that after a near death experience and cannibalism people were just different. But now, he was noticing things physically off. Medic had a scar from the top of his right shoulder to the end of his ribs on the left. Heavy had been surprised to see it wasn’t there. They had stopped at a hotel for the night, Heavy worried about driving too late and crashing. He  had already lost Medic once, he refused to ever lose him again, much less to something so stupid and preventable. He had to protect his Medic. They stopped at the hotel, and got a small room. They would be fine there that night. They took showers and crawled into the bed together. It was a hot night, though Heavy now vastly prefered heat to cold, so neither of them had worn a shirt to bed. Heavy laid on his side, Medic pulled to his stomach. He traced his fingers up and down Medic’s chest as he tried to sleep, kissing his neck.

    “What are you doing?” asked Medic softly.

    “Just enjoying being with you,” Heavy says. “I love you.”

    “Aw,” Medic said. “I.. I love you too.” Heavy stayed there, rubbing Medic’s tense shoulders with one hand and his chest with the other. He kissed the man gently. Then he realized the scar was gone. Normally Medic didn’t like Heavy petting his chest like that and wouldn’t let him do that much. He shuffled a little so he could look at his chest. “What are you doing?” Medic asked. There was an air of real truthful fear in his voice. Was.. was Medic afraid of him? He started to worry. He had sawed Medic’s leg off. That would make sense. He saw the lack of the scar on his chest. Something was wrong. Very. That scar had been from when Medic had decided to cut open his own chest to look inside himself. That had been a dark day, but Medic wouldn’t remember it that way. “Are.. You looking for something?”

    “Little scar,” said Heavy. “On chest. From when you cut open your chest to look inside it.”

    “Oh… Ja.”

    “I remember all of it.. Do you remember which organ you tried to take out first?” asked Heavy.

    “It was.. My heart,” said Medic. He was somewhat wrong. Medic would know that he never tried to take any out, he just wanted to watch his heart beat in his chest and pick it up, feeling it. He wanted to leave it in, but hold it. Feel it beat. Medic was disturbed, but Heavy loved him. “I… Don’t know why I’d do something like that.” That was false as well. Medic had done it to prove to everyone that he could- to force his hand between life and death, and master his own body’s reflexes and it’s struggle against him as he forced himself to near death. It had been disturbing and rambling but that was the same answer Heavy had gotten every single time. No.. Medic was fine. He was being ridiculous. He sighed and kissed Medic’s forehead. “Is anything wrong?”

    “Nyet. Goodnight, Doktor.”

    “Goodnight Heavy.”  Heavy held in the sigh. Even when he spoke, said completely normal things, it felt wrong.

 

 

Spy and Sniper were reasonably worried. Demo was too drunk to care, and Zhanna  to confident to fear. If they were going to reach the base in a reasonable time they would have to attempt to get aboard an airplane. This created a paper trail Spy was uncomfortable with and Sniper seconded that. Also, if they were attacked they would probably die. He wanted to just get to the damn base alive. His chest felt tight. He was panicking and struggling for breath, but attempting to stay calm so that the others wouldn’t start to panic too. He figured Spy was panicking as well. He was better at hiding things, however. Spy had managed to get a ticket. One of them. Zhanna would be the passenger, because women were allowed to carry a bag. In the bag, Sniper and Demo would hide. Zhanna could hold it in a way that made them look light. Spy would disguise himself as airport security and then a steward. He would sap the scales so that they appeared light enough of a bag to be allowed on the plane, then he would take over the x-ray machine and plant a gun in someone else’s bag while running them through so that the two adult men in the bag wouldn’t be noticed. Then, as the steward on the plane he would allow Zhanna to leave her bag on the floor instead of the overhead bin, because they would suffocate up there. Spy would force the person next to her to move, in addition, to insure that no one saw them in the bag. 

Sniper was going to absolutely lose his mind being stuck in the bag with Demo for several hours. He  could feel them entering the building and they were thrown on the floor in the bag. Zhanna had been told to treat them like a normal bag so that no one would grow suspicious, but he wished she wouldn’t throw him. 

“Aww what is this shite?” Demo asked. Then Sniper realized what part Spy had really given him in this grand plan. He was the Demo wrangler. He kicked Demo and shushed him with a motion. Demo layed there angrily, flipping him off. They were put on the scale. Sniper could see through a tiny hole in the bag. He saw the number stick at 35 pounds. They would be allowed. The plane was American, as they had to get back to New Mexico where the base had been, apparently. How Spy found out all these things was a mystery to him. The bag was allowed on board. He felt Zhanna lift them again. “Oh bloody hell,” Demo said, softly. They were bent in an uncomfortable and unnatural position. Sniper was used to bending into knots for the sake of his job. Demo did things like that whenever he would fall off a chair drunk. He wasn’t currently drunk enough to deal with it all. Zhanna shoved the ticket in the bag. It was under her name, because Spy figured that though they may be monitoring her Zhanna would be low on the list for people to monitor. In addition, they were flying to Las Vegas, which would seem like an average recreational trip. He held the tickets. He felt the conveyor belt pressing into his back and it started to hurt. Sniper writhed a  little, but tried to lie still so that he could be inconspicuous. Sniper tried to adjust himself and felt one of his fingers slip into the belt. The belt mercifully stopped then, a bag being scanned. Sniper yanked and twisted but his finger wasn’t coming out. The conveyor began to roll again. He started to yank and pull, trying to free his finger as the bag was moved forwards. It was stuck. He began to panic, forcing himself to be quiet. He bit down on his lip, harshly as his finger was slowly bent all the way back. He bit so hard on his lip that he began to bleed. He heard a child start to cry and used it as a cover to gasp and yelp in pain, hoping no one would notice. 

“Christ, oh fuck, oh God why,” he said quietly as possible. Then it crunched. He yanked back with all his force, pain slamming through his hand worse than when it had been run over He wanted to scream and struggled, the horrific pain jutting through his arm as he instinctively yanked as hard as he could. His finger peeled off, the skin on his arm peeling with it like a massive hangnail. He felt his eyes start to water with the pain as he bit his lip so hard he bled from there too. He began to thrash around, aggressively. He couldn’t stay still or he’d scream, and that was much too obvious. He slammed his head against the conveyor, trying to control himself as he bled and writhed. He began to actually cry as his thumb got close to getting stuck too. He pressed his hands to his chest in an attempt to protect them. He tried to stay as quiet as he could as they were shoved through the x-ray machine. He writhed around as they were shoved through.

“You must stay still,” whispered Spy.

“My fuckin’ finger got crunched, my fuckin’ finger Spy it’s fuckin’ gone and I think I’m gonna die,” Sniper whispered back, voice barely a husky whisper. 

“What?”

“The fuckin’ conveyor took my finger,” Sniper said. “I’m bleedin’ and bleedin’ and I’m gonna-”

“Shh, lay still bushman, I will get you first aid things on the plane just now you must be still.” He forced himself still, focusing on everything but the finger. He writhed slightly a settled as Spy put a hand on his chest. He laid still on his back, legs above him. Demo had fallen asleep or something, and Demo let him writhe across him and kick. He stayed still as the x-ray was taken and he saw Spy slip a gun into someone else’s bag through the tears in his eyes. They made it through as he watched the others being arrested as Spy deleted the x-ray of them. Zhanna lifted them up. Sniper gritted his teeth and tried desperately not to scream. He held his arm tightly, trying to slow the massive flow of blood. 

“How do I look?” he whispered to Demo.

“Oh shite, you’re whiter than I am.”

“Demo, you bloody idiot,” said Sniper. 

“Why’s that?”

“I’m always whiter than you, you’re black.”

“Wot?” he looked at his hand. “Oh shite. Looks like you’re right.”

“I think I’m dying.”

“You’re not dyin’.” Sniper laid there and bit his lip more and more, struggling against his urge to scream. He heard them boarding the plane. “Lad,” Demo said gently. He handed Sniper something that was definitely alcoholic. Sniper smiled to him as best he could and took it, drinking. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going to be busy tomorrow so the next update may be the day after that, but should hopefully be sometime this week. Thank you for sticking around


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sequel has been weirdly tame for a fic about people being forced into cannibalism so here's something a little more reminiscent of the first. I have plans to make it darker but dark themes that aren't well executed look ridiculous and execution takes time, I'm sure you understand.

They had followed Zhanna as best they could, and Heavy was fairly certain she was headed to an airport. They were desperately trying to find her. They were stuck at another hotel, the insane traffic getting them stuck. In addition he had lost any sign of Zhanna. Zhanna had called her sisters and told them where she was twice, but had stopped, explaining that she was on a mission. He sighed. He sat on the armchair in the hotel. Medic came by with a pair of cups of coffee. Heavy was never much of a Heavy coffee drinker, but he knew Medic would drink it for hours, as he stayed up incredibly late and woke up early in the morning. Heavy had often had to force him to sleep. He scooped Medic into his lap and held him, tickling him with his whiskers and kissing his neck. 

“Ah! Mikhailo!” Medic cried. Did he just actually? That was the wrong name. He just said the wrong name. His name was Mikhail, and Medic  _ knew that.  _  No, he had misheard it, he was being crazy. Paranoid. He had to know. He nipped Medic’s neck hoping to get him to say it again. He had to to it. Anything. Something. He pushed a hand up his shirt. “What’s gotten you so feely tonight?” asked Medic, turning to him and smiling. He gently maneuvered the two cups of coffee to a table next to the chair he was in, puling Medic into his lap. He pressed the other against him, his mind still firmly on what Medic had said. He said the wrong name. Heavy was sure of it. 

“I just like to hear you say my name,” he prompted. 

“Aw, Misha,” said Medic. Heavy held the little man close, making sure to support his amputated leg. He was half way between certain he was holding his Medic to him and half way between certain that he held an imposter, but regardless he felt the natural urge to take care of him. Hold him. Love him. Heavy would have to accept something that he couldn’t accept again. He couldn’t do it. If this man wasn’t Ludwig then… He closed his eyes tight. “What’s wrong?” 

“Is nothing.. Am worried about Zhanna.” 

“Don’t worry, Mikhailo, we’ll find her.” He said it  _ again.  _ He said the same wrong name twice. The man in his lap didn’t even know his name. He didn’t know his name. Medic knew him. That wasn’t his Medic. Ludwig was dead. He  had been dead. Zhanna was right. “Misha? You’re uh.. You’re squeezing me kind of tightly…” Heavy stood up in a sudden rage and slammed that Medic, that strange imitation of his love to the wall and started to choke him with his hands. Then Heavy realized he couldn’t actually choke that man to death. He held him to the wall, crushing his throat. Physically, he could snap him immediately. But mentally.. The man had Ludwig’s face, exactly, his voice, his hair, he felt the same, and looked the same and they were the  _ same.  _ He wasn’t at all Ludwig but Heavy couldn’t look this man in the face and choke the life out of him. His hands felt distant and tingly as he choked the man. He looked like Ludwig and Heavy knew that it was exactly the same way that choking Ludwig to death as tears welled in his eyes ,the edges of them growing red, and he struggled for air as  _ Heavy  _ crushed the life out of him. He dropped the man to the floor. He picked up a pillow and began to smother him. He couldn’t look at his face while he did it but so long as he focused on it not being Medic really, then maybe he could. The man’s weak hands grabbed at his wrists, begging to be spared. He could hear a faint muffled begging from under the pillow. It sounded just like him. 

“You are not my Medic!” he hissed, trying to keep everything quiet so others in the hotel wouldn’t hear them. He almost slammed the man’s head into the floor, knock him unconscious or something. His hands grabbed desperately at Heavy’s. He was weak. Heavy wasn’t sure if  this was just against his strength or if the man was dying there. He felt his stomach twist. His brain couldn’t hold back the truth that this was what killing Ludwig would feel like. Exactly. All of it was exact.He couldn’t. He still couldn’t do it. He moved the pillow and covered the man’s mouth so he couldn’t scream. “If.. If you scream I will snap your neck.” He released the man and he laid still. 

“Wh.. What are you doing Misha?” the man said, barely a shaky whisper. 

“I must.. I have to contain you somehow because…” He couldn’t say he couldn’t kill the man. “You don’t want to die and I don’t want to.. To deal with a corpse.” Heavy heard a noise similar to crying as he dug through drawers and bags. He had to find something to bind him with, some way to trap him. He couldn’t let him go- he was probably dangerous. He had to be.

“Why?”

“Why?” repeated Heavy “Why what?” 

“Why are you doing this to me?” he asked.

“What? You know you were using me, that you’re not my Medic and that you tried to trick me. You said wrong name, you gave wrong answer as to why you cut open chest and have no scar from when you did. You are not Medic.”

“But.. What? Wrong name? Mikhailo is your full name. Misha is short for it.”

“Nyet. Is Mikhail.” 

“But.. No it’s not I remember it’s not.” 

“I know my own name fake Doktor,” Heavy hissed. 

“I loved you my whole life and I know that your name is Mikhailo,” insisted the man.    
I just don’t know why you’re doing this to me.. I.. I thought you loved me too.” 

“Stop trying to manipulate me,” he said. He took a pair of socks, cutting them and then tied the man’s hands together with one pair of them. 

“I’m not,” the man said, head falling to Heavy’s chest. 

“You try to make me think you are Ludwig but are not.” The man’s shoulders started to shake. He was crying. Actually crying.

“I’m not.” Heavy was furious that he was so insistent with his tricks. Why did he have to do that? He knew what he was doing! Heavy wanted to throw him to a wall but he was still so much like Ludwig. Heavy couldn’t do that with a clear conscious, but the crying was starting to get louder and Heavy started to worry someone would hear it. He slapped the man, open handed and not even with half his strength. It worked. He fell quiet. 

“Am sure you know that I can’t kill you,” Heavy said. “Because you.. Because you’re just  like..You will not get family hurt with your tricks. I will put you in bag. Will not let you suffocate but will not let you out. Please… Please don’t force me to kill you.. I don’t… I.. please.” The man just sat there, his eyes almost glossing over. “Am going to put over your mouth so you can not yell, will not go over your nose so can breath. Please be still, do not want to hurt you.” The man obeyed him. He had no idea what to call that man. He was not Ludwig, or Doktor, or Medic. Those names were not his and he couldn’t have them. He was a lot like Ludwig though… Something came to him,that almost made him laugh. The Snake Lubac. Lubac started with an ‘lu’ like Ludwig, but when it came to it they were incredibly different. It fit. 

 

Spy upheld his promise to get Sniper a first aid kit, and through taking  a crossword puzzle and writing down how to use the first aid kit to properly tend to the wound. He tended to his wound, Zhanna slipping a flashlight into the bag with the puzzle. It looked casual enough. It worked perfectly. Spy slipped a few pain meds from a woman’s purse and into the bag. Sniper would have to buy Spook dinner or something, the man was a life saver. Zhanna got an alcoholic in flight drink for Demo, passing it into the bag. He passed out afterwards, which was also great. Sniper cradled his injured arm gently. Everything kind of hurt though. He shut his eyes tightly. It was going to be a long ride. 

 

The bouncing of the plane had lulled Sniper and Demo to sleep, according to Zhanna. That was good. Spy worked his  way back to the end of the plane and quickly destroyed the cameras and smoke detector in the restroom. He smoked a few cigarettes. Zhanna now knew what he looked like, really in addition to the bushman. He sighed. What was he doing? With Zhanna it had been a matter of necessity, but what had possessed him to show the damn Sniper? He didn’t need to know. It was compromising. It was dangerous. It wasn’t worth it. All he got was an awkward ‘your face is nice’. Unfortunately the sheer stupidity of the comment made it impossible to decipher for the Spy. Was it an accident? Was he flirting? Was it a threat? Spy had no idea what at all to do about it. How had a man like Sniper said something he couldn’t understand? He was a master of understanding everything- he had to pick up social cues in an instant and live out everyone’s expectations perfectly. He had lived amongst the bushmen of the Green team! Why was that so difficult? Why of everything- his thoughts were cut off as the plane jolted. He nearly inhaled his damn cigarette. He coughed a little and threw it into the toilet, letting it be sucked away. He walked back out into the plane. He followed the actual stewards and stewardesses to the front of the plane and they sat down, being strapped into the chair. 

“Awful shaky,” said Spy.

“Yeah, it’s just the plane landing. I kind of like it,” said a young stewardess. Spy smiled. They landed pretty quickly. He hoped that the rough landing hadn’t woken Sniper. Or Demo. Demo would probably do something stupid. Sniper would just be in pain. He would rather Sniper be awoken than Demo. He helped the others prepare the plane for everyone exiting. They argued a little about who should help the wheelchair bound man in the front and Spy accepted it quickly, longing for any opportunity to get off the plane. Spy watched Zhanna and the bag get off the plane and helped the handicapped man off. He caught up with them quickly. 

“Airport is.. Giant,” Zhanna said, amazed. It was a massive airport full of gambling slots and people. It was a perfect cover. He pulled Zhanna along through it, guiding her down and towards the exit. 

“Well look who decided to show up,” said an incredibly familiar voice. Spy turned and was face to face with Sniper.

“What is..?” Zhanna said. Spy was equally confused, and looked him up and down once, then to the bag then back to him. Then it dawned on him. His shirt was green, not red. 

“They sent the greens after us!”

“What’s left of us,” said the larger Green Sniper. Spy recognized the biggest one my his thin scar. A few of them had gotten in a spat and his nose was cut open, though he had won. Spy didn’t want to fight that one, when he met him. He still didn’t want to. “They got the Yellows lookin’ for your me and for Demo.”

“Why is..?” Zhanna asked.

“These are defective clones, meant to be a full team but instead they all came out Snipers. This one was near to be a Heavy which is why he is bigger.” They all had slight differences, but with the acception of the one that was supposed to be Demo it was difficult to figure out which one was which. 

“We aren’t defective,” he said, angrily. “ ‘Side’s not like you’re gonna ever see another day either. They want you dead. And your friends.”

“Well if ya wanne fight me you shoulda just asked!” Demo snapped, crawling out of the bag like a furious cat. 

“Oh shite!” yelped the Green Heavy-Sniper. It had been complicated enough when he had to live with them, so to keep track he abbreviated all that weren’t S’s to something like, GHS for Green Heavy-Sniper. GHS ran up and tried to punch Demo, who swung back quickly. Normally a Sniper had height on a Demo, who had a weight advantage on the Sniper. However, GHS had vastly more weight to him than a normal Sniper, so he hit harder. Demo threw literal garbage at him and proceeded to kick his shins. Zhanna walked to GHS and picked him up by the collar, throwing him in the trash. There was too much Sniper in him for him to be bigger than Zhanna. He was basically a larger, stronger, and thicker Sniper. He also talked less than the others, so Spy had liked him the best. Spy, Zhanna, and Demo turned and ran, their Sniper still in the bag. Zhanna threw him effortlessly over her shoulder and somehow he didn’t seem to notice. Spy could hear behind them a wave of ‘Go that way!’ ‘Catch them’ and ‘Piss’ as the other Snipers fanned out in an attempt to catch them. 

“If they throw a jar dodge it!” yelled Spy. 

“Why?”

“It’s full of-”

“Piss!” said their Sniper, sitting up in the bag. “What’s happening?”

“The survivors of the team made entirely of variations of you is trying to murder us currently,” Spy said. “It would be magnificent if you could do something about it.”

“What am I supposed to do about them? You lived with them for a month, you should be a professional Sniper wrangler by now.” 

“I cannot, did not, and will not ‘wrangle’ any of you.” 

“He’s got a point, lad,” said Demo. “You wrangled our Sniper into a bag.” 

“I am not a Sniper wrangler!” snapped Spy.

“Wrangle little men,” Zhanna demanded. 

“I do not want to wrangle-”

“It’s not like you could wrangle us anyways,” said the Spiper. There was no Green team member Spy wished had died more than the Spiper. 

“Not the Spiper.”

“What the hell is a Spiper?” asked Demo.

“It is the Sniper that was meant to be me,” Spy said. “I hate him more than any other Sniper.” 

“You hate the Sniper that is you the most… So you hate yourself?” asked Demo.

“No I hate the Spiper. He is an abomination. A man like myself should never be mixed with a man like the Sniper.”

“Which Greens even died? Is there a Snemo?”

“What the hell is a Snemo?” asked Spy.

“It’s a me and Sniper is wot a Snemo is,” said Demo. 

“I just called that one GDS,” said Spy.

“Well that’s bloody boring. It’s a Snemo now.” 

“I’m alright with bein’ the Snemo,” said GDS. 

“Of course you are,” hissed Spy. 

“Why are you Snipers even helping the Yellows? Didn’ they kill some of us?” asked their Sniper from in the bag. 

“Well, yeah,” said the Snout. “But uh..”

“Join us and avenge your fellow Snipers.”

“Look only four of us are left,” Spiper said. “We do not want to lose any more of our team.” 

“The same for us,” said Demo. “And our damn Heavy is so infatuated with the lil’ Yellow Medic he won’t accept ours is dead.” 

“What?”

“Our Heavy was in love with our Medic,” said Spy. “Wait.. was yours not?”

“I felt a need to protect him, but uh, no. That could just be because we’re all Snipers,” said GHS. 

“Wait so are you the Sneavy?” asked Sniper.

“I had a complex  naming system for them and you are replacing the first letters of what they were supposed to be with ‘Sn’ for Sniper and you wonder why I hate you,” said Spy. 

“G for Green, the first letter of who we were supposed to be, and S for Sniper,” said the Spiper. “Very complex.” 

“This is why I hate you.”

“This is stupid,” said Zhanna, “Snipers, join us and help us fight the Yellows.”

“I… I’ll do it!” said the Sneavy. Then his brains were splattered all over the others, and Spy was certain some of it was in his eye. He blinked a few times and the bits gradually came out. It was a grimmy, awful feeling. Then Spy spotted him.

“Yellow Sniper!” yelled Spy. They hit the ground and started to scatter. He heard another shot and Zhanna was hit in the shoulder, then another and the Snout was dead. Another took out the Spiper. Only the Snemo escaped with then as they lunged onto an escalator. 

“Hell, oh piss, oh Hell this is bad!” the Snemo said, beginning to panic. Spy ran right into someone, falling and quickly hoping up. He was shaken to his core when he locked eyes with his son. 

“Scout…? Son?” asked Spy. “How is this..?” He held a bat close to his chest and seemed genuinely upset. 

“Paulin’ shot me and then Mann co had me put back together again.. They wanted to use me as a weapon against you all but I don’t.. I don’t wanna! But I don’t wanna die, Spy, I’m scared I-”

“You don’t have to,” said Spy. “Either. Come with us.” 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Heavy snuck the fake Medic out of his room in a bag, still tied up and gagged. He was taking a huge risk by leaving him alive but he couldn’t kill him. He just couldn’t. Everything about forcefully shoving the  man into the bag and carrying him to the car in it felt wrong, but it was necessary. He opened the little cup holder in the back of the car so that the Medi- No that was not his Medic. That was Lubac, the possible snake possible something else. He stayed in the back no matter how bad Heavy felt about it and wanted to let him lay on the back seat or somewhere more comfortable or give him a pillow or something. He had to be strong and keep the little man were he was supposed to be. He would be fine. He was not injured. He whimpered every time they hit a bump because he was weak. Heavy tried to deny that he winced the snake every time he whimpered. If he just wasn’t so much like Medic it wouldn’t happen. 

 

Heavy had to stop for gas, and he looked back to the snake. He had wiggled so that his face was in the small hole. Heavy had pilled some stuff there so he couldn’t be seen from outside. Heavy sighed.

“Nod once if you need water.” He nodded. “Again if you need food.” He didn’t nod. “Will get water. Be quiet and stay down.” Heavy got out and walked into the gas station. He got the water for the man in the back. He drove away from the gas station and pulled off after a while. He moved back and removed the gag and unbound his hands, giving him the water. He tied the one he had taken from his hands around his chest and then to a lever in the trunk. He took the cap off for him and handed him the bottle. The man seemed unable to look Heavy in the eyes. Though it made his chest hurt it was probably for the best. The more he looked at the little man trapped in the trunk of the car the more he felt guilt creep into his stomach. He had the same face as his Medic and he was so good at lying and pretending to be hurt. Heavy moved away from the little man, starting the car again. “You scream, and gag goes back.” 

“Can I talk?” he asked, barely audible. Heavy didn’t want him to but didn’t want to be unreasonably cruel. 

“Can talk. But be quiet.” They drove for a while. Heavy wasn’t sure were to go. He didn’t want to follow Zhanna  with the possibly dangerous man in tow. Of course, Heavy could easily handle the man. However, he had begun to worry that if there was another Medic, there was another team. He had no idea why they had made another team, but it seemed like a logical conclusion. Why this Medic seemed so adimate that Mikhail was  _ his  _ Heavy was likely a survival tactic or something similar to that. But then again he had to know that Mikhail was incapable of killing him. Heavy didn’t know what he wanted. He had thought that perhaps he was from another team, like the Blus, after he rolled over their conversation the night before for the thousandth time. He had said they were part of the Yellow team. Was there actually a whole Yellow team out there? Maybe he could question the little man. “Other night.. Said you were from Yellow team?” There was a pause.

“Ja. We both are,” he said, somewhat defeatedly. 

“Nyet. I am from Red team,” said Heavy. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” the man cried. “I know what I know and you’re not going to do this to me! Why do you want to do this to me?! I loved you and I thought you loved me and if you’re going to keep doing this just.. Just pull this car over and kill me already!” 

“I don’t want to kill you but I know you’re not my Medic! Maybe there is a Mikhailo and a Yellow team but I am not him and am not on team. You may be from Yellow team I don’t-” he hit a bump and the little man in the back hit the ceiling of the trunk and yelped. “Are you alright?” Heavy called.

“Ah, damn it, ja, I’m fine. I just have a small scar on the side of my head- it hurt when something hit it.”

“Scar on head? Why?” asked Heavy.

“I don’t know. I’ve always had it.” 

“That’s.. Odd. I remember where all scars I have came from.”

“Maybe I got it when I was very young?” Heavy paused.

“Where did you grow up?” asked Heavy. 

“I.. I don’t actually remember.”

“Do you remember parents’ names?”

“No.”

“Remember where you are from as adult?”

“Germany.”

“Is whole country, where there?” 

“I.. Don’t know.”

“You know so little. What is first thing you remember?”

“Why?” 

“Just want to know.” 

“Fine.. I think…” He focused for a moment. “I was in a hospital I think. I was on a table and I saw a long thin blade and it was pulled out of my head and I was there.”

“First memory is  _ what? _ ” asked Heavy. 

“That. It is the first thing I remember… Well no.. I don’t know what order I remember things in or why I remember them so fuzzy but I do. I thought I knew you before then but that’s the first thing I know for sure… But my leg.. Did I lose it before or after..? Did I ever have a leg..?” he had started muttering to himself. 

“That sounds…” Heavy was trying to figure out what that even could be. A metal rod in his head? That sounded sort of like.. “Was metal thing in head?”

“What?”

“Through your skull. Like in brain?”

“I think so? I don’t remember it well. It bled though so I suppose it was?” 

“Do you think metal stick was twisted maybe?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Sounds like..” Heavy knew the word for it in Russian, but the English escaped him. “Stab in head they did to mental patients… I think they did that to you.” 

“Do you mean.. You think I was lobotomized?”

“Da, that,” said Heavy. 

“I mean…” he paused. “It’s possible.”  Then a realization fell on him. Lobotomization could potentially ruin memories. Or alter them. Mikhailo, Yellow team, loss of memories from his childhood. Those could all potentially be explained. They weren’t completely off the way a Spy’s would be. Only slightly off. Like the fun house mirror reflection of his life from a man who had been lobotomized. Zhanna had said he was off. Heavy was starting to worry that he wasn’t the wrong man. No, this was something much worse. 

 

Sniper was driving as Spy tried to help Snemo, Demo, and Scout remove a bullet from Zhanna’s shoulder. Sniper was trying to keep his eyes on the road as they drove wildly through Vegas. Actually, comparatively to everyone else he seemed to be going at a normal pace. Vegas was interesting. He sped up, unsure of whether they were being followed or not. He just kept going as fast as he could, weaving through the traffic and trying to avoid cops. They couldn’t afford to be pulled over. 

“So the Sneavy-”

“Please stop calling them those!” snapped Spy.

“Alright, Heavy Sniper guy said that they were coming after us but there’s like.. Only Heavy left out there somewhere and the rest of us are here.” 

“So the others are going after Heavy..”

“And Yellow Medic he is with.”

“Yellow Medic?” asked the Snemo.

“Yeah- he’s got one leg and is pretendin’ to be ours but alive.”

“But he’s got both ‘e’s legs?” Snemo said.

“What?”

“Yellow Medic has  both his legs,” insisted Snemo. “I’ve seen ‘im with my own eye. He runs all around helping them.” 

“So then… who is little man with brother?” 

“I mean they were working out the kinks-” Both Demos and the Scout snickered as Spy said that. “Grow up! They were fixing the cloning systems when I was there… Perhaps they made a separate Medic for that endeavor.” 

“What’s it matter? They’re not here,” Scout said. Sniper looked back. Spy still had neglected putting his mask on, which was definitely not a bad thing, and he looked at his son with wide eyed amazement every time he spoke. Sniper was suspicious of Scout suddenly showing up like that, but he was not very good at judging people, based on what he had thought Spy had done. He was probably already on Spy’s shit list for what he had said about him, but being suspicious of his son, well that would be too far. He would never be forgiven for that. However, he couldn’t shake the suspicion he felt. Demo had seen Scout die! Well, he had also drunk so much he forgot that he had ‘killed’ Spy. Was he just incredibly drunk? Hadn’t he said it had been a bullet to the head? Sniper couldn’t remember. He also wasn’t very trusting of Snemo. He was still of the Green team. What if he was bringing them to them? A tracking device could be the end of them, and Snemo could be so drunk he didn’t even know it was there. Sniper was worried. About everything. 

“Someone get up here and get a map and start telling me where to go,” said Sniper. 

“Got it!” Scout said. He hopped up into the front seat. “Actually I have no idea where the base is.” 

“Hand the map to me,” said Spy. Scout did. Spy circled were the base was and handed it back. Scout took it and started to try to help Sniper navigate. It was challenging because Scout liked to yell out turn right as they were literally at the turn. 

“Do that one more time and I’ll belt you across the jaw!” Sniper snapped, making another drastic turn. 

“Leave him alone filthy jar man!” Spy hissed, punching him in the shoulder.

“Aye! Calm yer tits you jumpy Spook,” said Demo. Spy sighed and turned to take care of Zhanna. 

 

Heavy had tried to avoid thinking about the possibility that the Medic still in the trunk was his Medic but had been lobotomized. He didn’t know anything about medical practices besides what they were and had no idea if a lobotomy would have done that so he tried to convince himself it couldn’t. He closed his eyes and didn’t focus on it as best he could, turning on the radio. 

“Do you know where we are going?”  asked .. Heavy didn’t even know who he was. He closed his eyes. 

“Nyet. Do not know where we can go.” 

“Well what do you want?” asked Medic.

“I want to… I need to find out who you actually are,” said Heavy. 

“Well… I think that the Yellow base would be a good place to start,” said Medic quietly. “They did this.. I think?” 

“You don’t know?” Heavy asked. “Wait- no, you were lobotomized.” 

“Ja, I can’t remember much of anything.” He paused. “At least not right.” He mumbled something else.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“What was it?”

“According to you. I can’t remember anything right according to you.” 

“You can’t remember it,” said Heavy. “Are you trying to tell me I don’t know my own name?” 

“It’s just.. I  _ know  _ these things. I should know these things-”

“Maybe lobotomy screwed up your brain.”

“But I’m so certain.. I.. I loved you. Or I guess I loved Mikhailo? I don’t know anymore. I would forget my own name before his,” he said. 

“Do you remember your name?”

“Do I look stupid? My name is Ludwig.”

“What is last name?” asked Heavy. 

“That’s.. A good question.”

“Well at least partially you did forget own name.” 

“But don’t you believe I am a lizard or something?” 

“Am not sure.” 

“What do you mean you’re not sure?”

“I don’t know who or what you are anymore and it hurts. It hurts because you could be my Medic, but brain damaged and I’ve treated you like a prisoner. It hurts because you could be some strange trick by Mann Co to get me killed and I kept you. It hurt because if you’re not him he’s dead and if you are him then you can’t even remember your own name because they hurt you and I didn’t protect you and I promised to!” There was a pause. 

“Let me into the front, or at least the back seat, please,” said the man.

“What?  _ Nyet! _ ”

“Bitte, let me forwards.  _ Bitte,”  _ the man begged. 

“Why do you want this?” demanded Heavy. 

“I just don’t want to sit in the trunk,” he said. 

“You are dangerous up here,” said Heavy. 

“What can I do?”

“Grab wheel of car.” 

“Then put me in the back seat- I just want out of the trunk.” Heavy paused. He shouldn’t let him out of the trunk, letting him anywhere was dangerous. Heavy glanced back in the rearview mirror and locked eyes with the little man and he knew that he couldn’t say no. 

 

They had driven for hours, maybe longer. Sniper wasn’t completely sure where they were anymore, but the Demos had been watching for any car following them for a few hours. No one had been. It had been a long time since he had seen that road but he was starting to remember it. He had driven there in his van once. It was the road that led to the bases. The Blu’s was further back than theirs. He remembered where it was from raids on the Blus. 

“You don’t need to go on,” said Sniper. Scout curled up the map and leaned back in the chair.

“Awesome.”  They kept going, through the winding desert. 

“You think they’ll be ‘appy to see us?” asked Demo. 

“Perhaps they will be grateful to not be dead anymore,” said Spy. “But they do not like us. At all.” 

“Hey I wonder why,” said Scout. “Not like  we killed them over and over again for like years.” Sniper raised an eyebrow. It actually wasn’t quite like that. They hated each other for a very different reason, Sniper remembered they had been hired to kill each other but had been somewhat close until they had a big fight over something stupid Red’s Soldier and Blu’s Demo had done. He couldn’t even remember what it was, but oddly enough the killing hadn’t made them hate each other. That was just business. He and the other Sniper had even had a running game going of trying to see who could get the closest to a headshot without killing the person. He had  been the reigning champion, once he realized hitting someone in the ear counted. He almost said something. Then he looked back at Spy. Spy would be so  _ pissed.  _ He barely had trust for Sniper already, and had even put his mask back on. If Sniper started accusing his son of anything that would be it. Besides, what would he even accuse Scout of being? Yellow Scout? An Alzheimer's patient? Blu Spy? He was being stupid. Scout was probably just being stupid too. He was a Scout after all, that was kind of their job. He wondered if he was the only one who realized it. Zhanna and Snemo definitely wouldn’t. Demo was much too drunk. Spy? Definitely not. So that was a yes. It was strangely isolated to be the only one with that idea. He was stuck in his own head. Which meant he thought about it more. Why had Scout just immediately decided Spy was trustworthy when he had died- well no, he hadn’t died had he? Regardless, he had no way of knowing Spy was trustworthy, especially with how loyal he had been to Sniper since the first day they had been trapped. Except the book club. He could test him a little. Mention something from the book. Then again the others probably wouldn’t appreciate that after what had happened. He hit a bump, which kind of scattered his thoughts. 

“Is that it?” Zhanna asked.

“No.. That one was our base. We’re close though,” said Sniper. They drove for a few more minutes. “Here we are. That one’s the Blu base.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This middle one is going to be the longest. Wait did I say middle? That's right, there will be three works in this series, Starvation, Agitation, and Mediation, so look out for that!


	6. Chapter 6

Heavy gritted his teeth. He shouldn’t be there. He was sleeping in the back seat, and he should  not be there. He should be in the trunk. Heavy sighed. It was a terrible idea. Right from the start. It was starting to get dark. He had been trying to drive back towards Russia so he could get them a plane ticket and get them to the base. He hoped the man would go along with it all. He shouldn’t have to. He should just keep him in the trunk and not worry about his co-operation and go get his sister. He looked up and saw a man standing in the road. Heavy tried to break but the man started to glow yellow and he lifted the car up and threw it. Heavy wasn’t injured too badly, the seatbelt and the airbag protecting him from the blow of the crash as the car rolled. He looked around. Medic wasn’t even in the car anymore- he must have been ejected. He could be dead. Heavy felt panic set in and he broke the seatbelt by ripping it out of the car entirely and shoved the door open. He looked up to the man in the road. It was him. It was Heavy. The yellow glow.. He looked behind the other him. A Medic. He was ubered. There was a Yellow team then. But there was a Yellow Medic right there- standing on his  _ two  _ feet- so who was..? Oh, shit where was he? He looked around. The Medic was on the side of the road, bent in an unnatural position as blood leaked from his broken body like a broken faucet. Heavy had then noticed a bone jutting out of his own hand, just barely starting to feel the pain. Heavy looked up to the other Heavy, still on his hands and knees. 

“Move and you die,” his reflection said down to him. He was absolutely stunned.

“Is he dead?” he asked, expecting the other to know. The wreck had happened so fast. It felt like the car was still rolling. He looked back to the Medic on the side of the road. He looked like he was twitching or struggling. Was he alive? Heavy felt like he was  about to hit the ground. He felt like he was going to die. He couldn’t though. He couldn’t die like that. He had to live, because he had to know. Was that his Medic? Had he wasted a second chance with Ludwig- brain damaged, but still him- due to paranoia? Was he watching him die again? The other Heavy had said if he moved then he died… But he was a Heavy. If he was going to kill him, he already would have. He forced himself up and ran to the Medic on the side of the highway. The other Heavy yelled at him, but as predicted didn’t fire. Misha fell back to his knees. The Medic looked like a wringed out washrag, his feet facing the ground and his head the sky, his torso twisted around like taffy. Misha couldn’t tell where he was bleeding from but he also saw no places he would doubt if he was told the blood was coming from there. Everything was bleeding. His glasses were gone, remnants of them scattered through his face. He had one eye shut and Misha feared he couldn’t see from it anymore. It gushed blood and Misha could swear it was partially out of his skull. He looked back to his twisted torso. He couldn’t tell if what jutted from him was a rib or the bone of one of his arms. He looked like he had been hit by a train. How fast had they gone? Misha had drifted off a little, just a little tired, and he couldn’t tell anymore.  They had gone too fast, regardless. There was still a struggle in his chest, as it rose and fell. He was alive, but barely. He was fighting for every breath. Heavy took his hand as he did, ignoring once again his own hand’s brokenness. 

“Can you hear me?” he asked. The one open blue eye looked to him, unmistakably directly at him. Heavy had to look away or cry, so he looked away. The trunk of the car was completely crushed. Good thing Medic hadn’t still been there. He’d be dead. For sure. The other Heavy came over to them.

“You are coming with us.”

“Where are we going?” Misha asked, numbly. 

“To the base.” That was hardly an answer. Fine. It would suffice. He didn’t have the energy to ask again. 

“Can this be fixed?” he asked, hands gesturing helplessly to the Medic. Yellow Heavy looked back to his Medic. 

“Ehh.. Ja. It can probably be fixed.. Not well though,” he muttered. Heavy looked up to the Yellows feeling a deep rage. No, it was jealousy. He was jealous of the Yellow Heavy, he realized. He leaned close to the broken man bleeding in the grass.

“They can help you. Just hold on.” 

 

Spy had quickly and near effortlessly infiltrated the Blu base. It was empty, even of the corpses they had left there. He had worried about  that for a moment, but dust had settled on the floor and none of it had been disturbed in a long time. He snuck quietly to the Blu Engineer’s room.He hoped there would be some schematic on the respawn there. He dug about, noticing his old sentry. He had sapped that sentry so many times. It was like a game. It had been. The man who made it was dead. That was odd. It was odd to think that. It was different from the pain of his own team. That was pain. Thinking he had lost his son was vastly worse. He had been an awful father. He knew that. But he had a chance to make it all up, now. He had to. The shock of losing Scout had made him realize how much his son really meant to him. It had hurt, but it wasn’t real. It was alright. He had the chance.

However, something was off in the team. He knew that the Sniper was feeling it too. Neither of them trusted Snemo, he knew that. However, he wasn’t certain if Sniper distrusted Demo as much as he did. Demo, he felt, was somehow off. He didn’t know what was off. Sniper probably hadn’t said anything for the same reason. He knew something was wrong with Demo.He knew it. He was a master of  deceit himself, so of course he would recognize something shady. It was his job. He dug through the rest of the Blu Engineer’s writings. He found a plan to try to make the teleporter into a cloning device for food. He had been trying to make more food. He had failed. He looked to have been close too. However, he had discovered something else that could be useful. He had discovered the inner workings of the respawn.  Spy was far from an engineer, but he figured he could get some of it to work. He went back out of the Blu base and told the others that he had found it.

“That’s wonderful!”Sniper said. “We just gotta fix it and then everything will go right and we can save the others.” 

“Hopefully. I don’t know how to fix it, however. I just have the schematic.” 

“We can get everyone in there and we can fix it,” Scout said.

“Not everyone. Still need to watch for Yellows,” said Zhanna. 

“Zhanna, you and Snemo stay out here,” said Sniper. “And watch. I’m fairly certain you two can handle anything that comes around.” They walked into the halls.

“You know, the Yellows probably know we’re here now. Like all of us,” said Scout.

“Probably.” 

“Wonder were Heavy is,” Sniper said. 

“I honestly thought he would’ve followed us, with his sister comin’ with us,” said Demo.

“Well he’s got other family he has to take care of at home,” said Sniper.

“I dunno. Just seems odd.” 

“Yeah.”

“I hope the Yellows didn’ get him,” said Scout. There was a pause. Spy decided not to think too much on that. The Green team had said all the other Yellows were looking for Sniper, Demo, and Heavy, and that the Greens had only really been sent after him. Heavy was the only one who wasn’t there, and none of the others would have been in America anyways. That meant that Heavy was the only one of the continent who they could get to. But it was Heavy they were talking about. He could handle a lot. Spy took Blu Engineer’s notes on the respawn from his room and they walked to the respawn. Their base was eerily the same as the Red one, each hall and room, all identical. It was as if they had cloned the building as well. Spy looked to his son. Once the Blus were alive it would be possible to tell who the clones really were. Blu Medic could do the testing , Blu Spy and Blu  Scout could be compared to them. It would be in the very least interesting.He sort of guessed they were the originals. That’s why they had families and such. He had learned that no one in the Green team really remembered their families when he had hidden amongst them, whereas their Sniper remembered his parents.Spy still wanted to prove it though, mainly to rub it in the face of his counterpart. They moved quietly through the building, no one talking. They all seemed to be caught up in their own heads. Sniper was smart. Spy could appreciate that.He had put Snemo outside with Zhanna because she could fight him. Demo was in with them because he was also untrustworthy and therefore he needed to be watched. Snemo was less of an issue, but whatever was off about Demo could be monitored. The three of them could definitely deal with Demo.

 

Sniper could practically feel it, he and Spy were on the same page. They both knew to some degree that Scout was untrustworthy- and Snemo was kind of obvious-  but Spy wouldn’t say anything. It was his son, so of course he was just happy to have him back. It was the same situation as with Heavy and the Yellow Medic, but Spy was smarter, and more logical than Heavy. He had to know, somehow, what was happening. Sniper could feel it, sense the unspoken connection. They looked at the respawn.

“This is a delicate and complicated piece of machinery-” Spy began.

“I’m on it,” said Demo, taking the notes.

“What are you-”

“I can deal with wires and careful and shite- I’m a Demo and a damn good one! If I was a bad Demoman I would be  _ dead.” _

__ “We know, you love to tell us,” Sniper said. Sniper decided to let Demo do what he was going to, sitting in the corner to watch Scout carefully. Spy seemed to notice what he was doing. He came and sat next to Sniper. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” he whispered. “We need to deal with him, and quickly. He’s going to do something.”

“I don’t know, I think we need to let the Blus respawn first.” 

“He may do something to disturb that.” 

“You’re right.. Wait…” Sniper had to make sure. “Who are you suspicious of?”

“Same one you are.”

“Who is?” Sniper asked. Spy rolled his eyes and gestured towards Demoman. But Sniper wasn’t suspicious of Demoman. He had to say something, he didn’t have a choice anymore. “Spook,” he whispered. “I wasn’t suspicious of Demo… Look you can yell at me later for it, but I was suspicious of the other in the room. I’m.. almost sorry.” Spy walked off, refusing to even look at him. Sniper lowered his head. Fine. That was fine. It was Spook’s fault for being an idiot and trusting Scout immediately. What had Demo even done? 

“Got it!” Demo exclaimed, standing up and turning the respawn on. It started to function, and started to glow with a loud heaving noise. It was working. The Blu team began to respawn. Sniper stood in the soft blue glow next to Demo, and Spy was next to Scout. He hoped they would at least be sort of happy to see them. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of a short chapter, but big things are coming.


	7. Chapter 7

Spy had completely lost interest in the respawn, by the pure force of his disgust for Sniper. He thought Sniper was  _ intelligent.  _ That was the dumbest thing Spy had ever done. Having any sort of faith in that bushman was a crime against spies- probably even humanity. Spy stood between his son and that man, glaring at him. Sniper wasn’t paying attention to him. Fine. He could do that too. He looked back to the Blu respawn as they gradually reappeared. First was the Blu Scout, then Blu Sniper, Blu Spy, Blu Medic, Blu Engineer, Blu Demo, Blu Pyro, Blu Soldier, and lastly the Blu Heavy. Spy supposed that had been the order they had starved to death in. It made sense that Scout and Sniper would starve quicker than the rest, already being too thin in Spy’s opinion. Spy did somewhat enjoy Sniper being thinner and slightly weaker than him. He could pin Sniper to a wall if he wanted to. And then, beat him up, of course. That was there that had been going and he refused to believe otherwise. The Blus all stood there, for a moment, and Spy thought they were quite reminiscent of a gaggle of idiots. It was as if they had never seen their own base before.

“The.. The respawn was broken,” Blu Engineer said. 

“Yes. We fixed it for you,” said Spy. 

“You saved us…” Blu Spy said. “Wh.. Why?”

“We need your help,” Sniper said. “The same thing that happened to your team happened to ours. We’re the only survivors. There’s a team, known as the Yellow team who are also clones and want to kill all of us for Mann Co, who tried to kill us all by making the snow and trying to starve us.”

“What? But.. No! They wouldn’ do that!” Blu Scout said. “I mean the Administrator, yeah, probably, but Miss Pauling and Saxton and-”

“Miss Pauling shot me,” said their Scout. “She tried to kill me. She really did.”

“Yeah well she likes  _ me, _ ” said Blu Scout.

“What? That’s stupid! You’re stupid!”

“She wanted to murder all of us and was here to make sure you were all dead,” said Sniper. “She didn’t care about any of us.”

“So we’re clones?” asked Blu Engineer.

“One team of us is clones, one is the original team,” said Spy. “Our Medic devised a way to tell, but he is.. Not with us, as you see.”

“Well our Heavy’s alive too,” said Demo. “Just off somewhere doin’ Heavy things.. It’s a long story I’ll tell ye-”

“How can we know who the clones are?” asked Blu Spy.

“We have to look at the DNA of the Scouts,” interrupted Blu Medic. “If the Scout in the team only has the genetic line of the Spy, his father-”

“Spook’s my  _ dad? _ ” yelped Blu Scout.

“Ja- now shut up. If the Scout only has the line of the Spy and not his mother, he is a clone so the rest of the team is too. If he has both lines he was made through sexual reproduction and is likely not a clone.” 

“Wait- does everyone have belly buttons? ‘Cause like if you  guys don’t then…” their Scout began.

“Well yeah, we got ‘em, do you?” asked Blu Scout.

“You would still need an ambiliculcord as a clone and therefore still have a belly button,” said Medic. “That does not help.” 

“I dunno man, I don’t want a random Medic stickin’ needles in me,” Scout said.

“I won’t let him do anything,” Spy said. “It’s fine.” The two Scouts were ushered into the Blu Medic’s medbay. 

“Shouldn’t we just go turn on our respawn?” asked Demo.

“This is important,” said Sniper. “I wanna know if I’m even a real person, Demo.” The two Scouts sat on the table. The Blu Medic pricked both their fingers and walked off.

“I’ll go get Snemo and Zhanna.”

“Who and what?” asked Blu Demo.

“You’ll see- you’re gonna love this,” said Demo. He walked out. Spy decided if there was any good time to argue with their stupid Sniper, it was then.  He walked to the man.

“You  believed  _ my son _ -”

“He just showed up out of nowhere,” said Sniper, “And Demo saw him shot in the  _ head.  _ You don’t come back from that.”

“I thought you were intelligent.” 

“I thought you were too,” said Sniper. “So we’re even.” Spy wanted to hit him, to kick him, to yell at him-  _ something!  _ But he knew he couldn’t do much in front of the Blus. They had to be a team worth saving. He would not jeopardize the rest of the team for a fight. Unlike  _ someone.  _

“I cannot believe you,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice low.

“I thought we were on the same page.”

“As did I.” 

“Well look, Spook, I’d apologize but I’m not sorry. Alright? I just don’t trust his sudden reappearance. I know you really want to have him back- he’s your son- and I know that. It’s like what happened with Heavy and that other Medic- just like that. But I thought you were smarter, stronger, and that you would see through it… I don’t know why I thought so highly of you.” 

“Bushman I will end you,” Spy hissed. 

“No ya won’t. You’re just a little twat trying to argue with me about somethin’ when I’m bloody right!” Sniper said, too loud. 

“Be quiet,” Spy insisted, voice harsh but controlled. 

 

Sniper was tired of that. That control. He hated it- if Spy wanted to snap at him then he was going to make him  _ snap.  _ He could understand why Spy didn’t want to do it in front of the Blus, but it had to be done.

“Let’s take this to the hall.” Spy agreed and they walked there. Demo passed them, going back into the room with Zhanna and Snemo. The moment they were in the room and Sniper and Spy were alone Spy slapped him across the face. “You hit like a bitch,” Sniper mocked. Spy tried again and Sniper caught his hand. “You didn’ even move my damn sunglasses.” 

“Bushman-” He slammed Spy against the wall. 

“You wanna fight me? You wanna do this now?” he snapped, putting his foot firmly on Spy’s chest. He didn’t stomp him; he didn’t really want to hurt him. “I’ll hurt you.” 

“You insult my son-” Spy said, shoving his leg to the side and pulling him to the ground in one shift movement. “And insult my fighting-” Spy hissed, lunging forwards and putting one knee forcefully into Sniper’s stomach, the foot forcing his hips to the ground. Spy knew what he was doing- having movement of his hips made it easier for him to escape from under Spy- so he cut off his ability to escape. “And you expect me not to want a fight?” Spy’s hands firmly pressed shoulder’s down. He had to use his own hands to stop Spy from moving his hands to choke him out. He was flexible, fortunately. He kind of had to be to lodge himself were he did to hide. So he forced the left side of his hip up and hooked his left leg around Spy’s right and then pulled it back to him, rolling Spy just enough for him to regain balance and shove Spy down. Sniper quickly got up putting one foot under his body and shooting up, moving back a little from Spy as he did the same. Sniper ran up to him, locked his arms around Spy’s head and hit his knees, bringing Spy down with him and forcing Spy to hit his face on Sniper’s head- the best way to headbutt. He shoved Spy back, who slipped but regained his balance. He ran towards him, got to his side and kicked him in the side. Sniper crumpled. He knew what had happened-he had just been on the business end of French liver kicking, and his liver had just been kicked. He looked up. He was fairly sure he had broken Spy’s nose. Spy walked towards him, ready to deliver the final blow when he was hit by the door. 

“We have- why are you on the floor?” asked Blu Medic. Then he saw the Spy. “Stop wrestling on the floor, Schweinehunde. We have some interesting results. The other already know but it appears that we are all clones.”

“What?” asked Spy.

“Neither Scout has DNA from his mother. We are all clones.”

“So then.. Where is the original team?” Sniper asked aloud.

“Who are they?”

“We don’t know. Anything. All we know is that none of us were truly born. We were all made. We are all clones,” said the Medic. 

 

She called for him, joyfully hugging the little bundle. He was afraid. He was deathly afraid. That little bundle, was not the danger. That was his son. He had never planned to be a father, but when he met Amelia he knew that he had to stay close to her. She had a husband already, she had children already. Several boys, Spy forgot how many. But he  loved her, and she loved him. He knew when he saw the bundle, that it was his. His son. If he could live with her and marry her he would call all those boys his, but this one was his biologically. He knew it. 

“Hugo,” she said. That wasn’t his real name of course, he could never tell anyone that, but giving her any name was ten times the trust he had given anyone in his life. “Come here. My husband doesn’t know it, but he’s ours,” she said to him. She never even referred to that husband of hers by name. If he could get away from it all and live a normal life, he would kill that man. Maybe he could kill him and replace him. He always considered it. “His name is Jeremy.” Spy took that little boy in his arms and the baby grabbed his finger. 

“Hello Jeremy,” he said. “I won’t be able to be around much, but I will always be here for you. I’ll take care of you. Protect you.” He had never planned to be a father, but he had never regretted it. He only regretted not being able to be a better one. 

He remembered the first time he held his son, remembered sneaking birthday presents that his mother said she got him, and watching from a distance. He had watched his son grow up, painfully far from him, always wishing he could be there. 

And now some psychotic, stupid, clone of a psychotic, stupid man was trying to tell him that Mann Co had pushed those memories into his brain like his whole memory was just some sewn together fake past made out of bits of the real man’s memories. Spy lunged at him, grabbing Blu Medic by the throat and trying to squeeze the life out of him right then. He tried to kill the man as best he could before the Blu Heavy yanked him off and threw him. 

“How dare you! How dare you, you stupid son of a bitch! I’ll kill you!” Spy yelled. None of the others could understand him as he devolved to screaming every insult he knew in French. 

“Holy Dooley, Spook, what the hell’s the matter with ya?” Sniper said, holding tight to his arm. 

“I think your Spy is defective,” Blu Spy said, standing there casually.

“I think you never loved your son!” Spy accused, starting to rise again. The others on his team restrained him as he continued to absolutely lose his mind. He would be embarrassed of this behavior later, but all his life he had contained every bit of anger except in fighting and now he was being constantly bombarded with ideas and facts that destroyed everything he had believed in his  life. He couldn’t deal with it anymore. The others had time, time to grieve and reflect on what they’d done. He had never had that time. Zhanna and Blu Heavy pulled him out of the room. 

Demo was shocked, to say the least. He had outbursts, and Sniper did, and Scout did, and Soldier did, and Medic did, but there were four people on the team who always seemed calm. Spy, Engineer, Heavy, and Pyro. Pyro was ignorantly blissful, Heavy was a gentle giant off the battlefield, and Spy and Engineer both composed themselves always, for the team. Both men had been undeclared leaders- along with Medic at times, but he usually recommended murder as a solution- and Demo never thought he would see the day either would break. But Spy had. He felt grimy, almost. He looked around. The team- his team- was broken. They were all broken, and they needed the Blus’ help. The Blus were growing more and more unsure of them as they continued again and again to prove themselves unstable. His team needed a leader, someone who could get those Blus on their side. That sucked. Demo picked up the bottle. 

Then he put it back down. Yeah. It did suck. But someone had to fix it. Spy was losin’ his shit, Sniper was recovering from havin’ his liver kicked- and if anyone knew how much a liver injury hurt it was Demo- and Scout as a leader was the worst idea he had ever heard. No, he had to do it. 

“Alright lads,” he said, getting the attention of the Blus. “I know, we look shite. That’s probably because we are kind of shite. But the problem here is we’ve been fightin’ this so long we’re all breaking down. We need each other, just like you all need each other. But we can’t get to our own respawn without you. We can’t fight the Yellows alone. We need you. We really do.” The others didn’t seem convinced. “You’d be just as distressed as we are in our situation,” he said. “Blu me, would how upset would you be if your Soldier was dead?” There was a pause, and thought he said nothing his eyes grew wide. “Blu Heavy, what about if your Medic was dead but you were still here? When does a team not need an Engineer? Also if you wouldn’t cry if your Pyro died you’re a heartless dickhead and that’s a fact.” They had moved closer together, Blu Heavy holding onto his Medic. “We suck right now, I know, but if you help us, we can be just as good as we once were. We just need you. Please.” Demo paused, and looked around the room. “Will you help us?” 

“Aye!” said Blu Demo. 

“Yeah!” agreed Blu Scout. 

“Mrph!”

“Da.”

“This is stupid,” Blu Spy said.

“You’re  outnumbered Frenchie,” Blu Soldier said. The others, except the Blu Spy, agreed as well. Demo was proud of himself, and he figured his mum would be too. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost to the end so there is a possibility of multiple chapters today


	8. Chapter 8

Once Spy had finally collected himself they headed out. No one seemed to be able to comfort him, so it took him a long while. Sniper wasn’t surprised. Grief did things to people, awful things. He had found out about that when his parents died. The hurt was so deep, so profound he thought he would die. He figured Spy was feeling something like that- knowing all those memories of his son were fake and that he had never really been a father. Sniper guessed he would feel the same. He and the Blu Sniper found places to set up, watching each other’s backs. Those Yellows wouldn’t know what hit them. He watched the others through his scope, the large team making their way across the field. They charged forwards and across the bridge, Blu Soldier leading with Blu Heavy being healed by the Blu Medic following close behind. They were practically conjoined on the battlefield. They got all the way to the Red base before the Yellows even bothered to show up. It was off. He and the other Sniper waited for about ten minutes before they headed out to check on the others. The two Snipers walked side by side, holding their identical kukris. It felt odd for them both to walk along with each other. They looked like twins but felt like strangers, suddenly on the same side. They pushed the door open.

“We scared ‘em off!” yelled Blu Soldier. “They didn’t even bother to show!” Something was off. The two Snipers looked to each other. They both felt it. Something was very wrong. They walked in and followed the trail of men celebrating an easy battle. Or lack thereof. He saw the Engineer working with the three Demos to fix the respawn. It crackled to life. He smiled as he walked to it. Then it began to screech. It made the most God awful noise Sniper had ever heard in his life.

“Somethin’s wrong,” Blu Engineer said, eyes wide. It started to malfunction. Their Engineer and Soldier respawned together, and everyone quickly realized they were connected by the hand, which seemed to function. 

“What’s happening?!” yelled Demo over the screech of the macience. Then was Pyro, who had respawned at the same time the machine tried to respawn the dead ringer, horrifically combining them into a creature with Pyro’s head a twisted, malformed body, and so so many arms. Sniper looked on in horror.

“Shut it off!” their Scout cried.

“The only one left is Medic, it can’t get worse-” Spy said.

“No! Shut it off!” he yelled, desperately. Sniper watched as Medic began to respawn. He was too small, and he guessed the macience just didn’t have enough juice left in it to respawn him completely. And then their Scout fell out. Sniper looked at him and then the man next to Spy. Spy looked shocked as well. The respawn began to smell like burnt hair, an awful smell. Sniper dived, attacking the Scout next to Spy. Spy tried to pull him off but he knew- he was  _ right!  _ Their Scout had died- so this one had to be- His thoughts were interrupted as the macience began to screech even louder and then practically exploded. He looked back to it, ignoring the pain in his neck as Spy tried to slit his throat. Their Medic crawled forwards, leg still a bleeding stump. They heard a buzzing noise and the Blus all fell over. 

“What’s happenin? What the fuck is happenin?” Demo yelled. They heard gunfire and Snemo was killed, blood spattering across the whole room. 

“Very amusing,” said the Administrator, “But playtime is over boys. You’re coming with us.”

 

Spy had no idea what  was happening anymore and he felt that he was going insane. He had to stop Sniper from killing his son, he knew that much, but he could no longer tell which person was his son. His chest constricted as the Blu Scout fell over, lifeless. He pulled the Sniper back by his throat, forcing him away from the other Scout. His son was dead, alive, and had been dead, all at the same time. He wanted to scream, he couldn’t even think, he could only think in screams. He looked at the Administrator. 

“What.. The Blus…” said Demo, holding onto the arms of the closest Blus. 

“They were clones. Of course we made a way to kill them off the moment that we needed to. Saxton is the one you have to thank for us not doing the same with you. He was protective of you, because he knew you were humans.”

“But… We’re clones too?” Demo said weakly. The Scout that Spy had nearly killed Sniper to protect stood up. He walked to the Administrator’s side and uncloaked. Spy looked, feeling pure horror as he looked at the Yellow Spy. 

“You were real,” she said. “Now, you’re all going to be dead.” She walked up to the deformed, screaming Pyro. Everything felt a thousand miles away. Spy couldn’t focus. Spy couldn’t think. She shot it in the head. 

“You bitch!” snarled Demo, standing up and taking the kukri from the dead Sniper, oh God, Spy locked eyes with the corpse and thought that he had almost done that, he had almost done that. He looked back to his Sniper, who was bleeding from a wound he had caused. His hands shook and he dropped the knife. Never had that happened before, never had anything like that happened before. He looked back to Demo, forgetting for a second were he was and what had happened. Demo slammed the kukri into her head, slashing a huge gash into her face. Demo was shot six times before he went down. The Administrator was still alive, of course she was, could she die? Spy didn’t know. He heard the footsteps of the rest of the Yellow team coming towards them. He flopped back limply. He couldn’t go any more. He couldn’t fight it anymore. Spy gave up.

 

Spy fell limply back from where he had grasped Sniper’s neck. Sniper looked to him. He just laid there, like the Blus. Sniper turned to him and shook his shoulders. 

“Spook?” he asked. There was so little that he could do as he heard the others coming. He pushed Spy back, towards the broken respawn. He pulled the others to the respawn, and scurried across the floor and pulled Demo. They all piled up by the respawn, clinging to each other desperately. If they died, they died together. 

 

They were in a van, the back of one. Sniper knew that much. He had no idea were they were. A man moved to the back of the van, and was supposed to help with wounds. Where were they taking them? He thought they wanted them dead. Apparently not. They were taking bullets out of Demo, stitching Medic’s wound closed, and deciding whether Engineer or Soldier would keep their conjoined hand. 

“You really use your hands a lot-” Soldier began.

“How are you going to hold your rocket launcher?” Sniper almost laughed. They were talking about it so rationally, as if things would be normal again. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

“No. You are taking the hand. That is an order!” snapped Soldier. 

“Da! We can match,” Zhanna said, sitting next to him. 

“Yeah!” said Soldier. “Me and Zhanna will both only have one hand. It’s like a couple’s tattoo, but better.”

“Thank you,” said Engineer. At least they were together. He put a hand over Spy’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. He just stared forwards. 

 

Saxton sat down at the table, looking from Bidwell back to Maggie. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. 

“Alright.. We need to help them.”

“I don’t know where you’re getting this ‘we’ from,” Maggie said.

“Mags, please, I can’t do this without you. I mean- maybe- but all my plans without involve Bidwell dying.”

“I really don’t want to die,” Bidwell said, more like it was a work hazard instead of certain death. 

“Look.. Get us a little more backup,” said Maggie. “And I’ll help you.” 

“Do I count?” asked Miss Pauling.

“I don’t think they’d be happy to see you,” said Bidwell.

“I know,” said Miss Pauling. “But I think they’ll understand what happened.”

“This cloning thing is getting out of hand,” said Maggie. “‘Why did you ever let them do this?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Saxton said. “I hired the mercenaries and the clones were made without me knowing. They were already alive by the time I found out.” She rubbed her forehead. They heard a knocking at the door. 

“Who the hell?”

“Let me in you bloody cunts!” yelled an elderly woman from behind the door.

“Who is that?” asked Bidwell.

“That’s the Demoman’s mother.”

“How did she find us?” Maggie asked.

“Tavish probably left his mother some way to find him if things went wrong,” Miss Pauling said. Then they heard the door break. Saxton stood up. 

“Alright, numbnuts, you’ve got ten seconds to tell me where my son is before I hit your head so hard your mustache falls off,” a woman with a Boston accent and a baseball bat said.

“Wait!” Miss Pauling said. “We don’t know.”

“You have less seconds,” said an elderly Russian woman. 

“Who are these people?” asked Maggie. Saxton looked around and smiled.

“Back up.” 

“Whadya mean back up?”

“These are the families of the mercenaries. At least the ones whose families are.. Alive.” 

“Look, ladies,” Saxton said. “Your sons have been abducted by a sinister company I lost because I couldn’t punch a child.”

“Well you shoulda grown a pair and punched it,” said the elderly blind woman. 

“Look, Mrs. DeGroot, and uh.. The rest,” he said, noticing the Heavy’s other two sisters. “Tavish, Jeremy, Misha, and Zhanna are in danger. We need your help to rescue them. There’s also some more people involved in this we need to save but they’re not super important right now.”

“Oh! Your lover too,” said Pauling to Scout’s mom.   
“ _ Ex.  _ Hugo is my  _ Ex  _ lover.” 

“You can kick his teeth in when we get there,” offered Maggie.

“Mags,”  Saxton began.

“I’ve wanted to do that to you before.” 

“Well I dunno why we’re all still standin’ here like a bunch of idiots,” said Mrs. DeGroot. “Get your shit, I’ve got the lazy ghost sword. Let’s go get our boys.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As Agitation comes to an end be on the look out for Mediation. Thank you all for going through this!


End file.
